


Tangled (In Complexity)

by OMGitsgreen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (the mighty nein are referenced but do not appear), Brotherhood, Emotionally Abusive/Distant Parenting, Estrangement, Exploration of Essek's low empathy, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Minor Original Character(s), den politics, mentions of minor canonical parental death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMGitsgreen/pseuds/OMGitsgreen
Summary: "This was the Essek that Verin remembered between the pages of old textbooks and ducking between the pillars of their home. That Essek hadn’t been perfect, nor kind, but at least Essek was his brother. That had meant something in Verin’s life, a life that was full of starts and stops and highs and crushing lows all dictated by a woman who Verin was sure had never even seen them as people with lives outside of her. Verin wondered if it made her proud, how thoroughly she had destroyed them."After time apart, Verin encounters Essek again, and is surprised at what he finds.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss & Verin Thelyss
Comments: 17
Kudos: 175





	Tangled (In Complexity)

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been very interested in a lot of the psychological features of Essek's character, and one of them is his canonical low-empathy. Essek seems to have a really hard time with empathy as a rule, which makes social interactions extremely fraught for him. I am also a Verin Thelyss stan, so of course, I had to write a whole fic exploring these issues. No, I do not believe having low-empathy makes a person evil by any means, but as this story is from Verin's flawed perspective we only get his insights into Essek's behaviors so just keep that in mind when reading. 
> 
> Edit 8/27: lol my spellcheck changed their last name a million times hopefully I fixed it
> 
> Enjoy!

"Don't leave me," Verin begged, fingers pressed to the wood of the door, and yanking the knob to no avail. "Please, it'll get me, Mama!" 

"Verin, you will stay in your room until you overcome this idiotic fear," his mother shouted, and Verin flinched back from the door. "We are  _ drow _ , what kind of drow is afraid of the dark?" 

"Mama, Mama no!" Verin sobbed curling tight into himself. He could hear her footsteps as they echoes down the hallway and disappeared. He screwed his eyes shut. The room seemed to shrink in his panic. The shadows at his closet seemed to grow. The panic that had been gnawing at Verin's gut since his history lesson that day seemed to grow stronger. There was only his desperate heartbeat in his ears, the scent of snuffed candles, and thick shadows. In the dark there were the monsters that he had been told about. He didn't understand why his mother couldn't understand. If he was alone in the dark, then the driders and beholders and the other creeping crawling monster would be able to find him and hurt him! 

There was no choice then. If his mother wouldn't help him than Verin knew that he would have to save himself. 

Verin looked about, seeing his window and realizing it was his golden opportunity. He jumped up on his chair, onto his desk, and then attempted to open the window. It didn't budge. Seeing the lock at the top, Verin climbed down to his bookshelf and began bringing books over to his desk. Using them to boost himself up and using all his strength, he heard the lock creak and pop, the window opening out to the courtyard. He nearly fell out right there but managed to catch his balance with a startled yelp. 

Verin ducked, his heart in his throat. He had been so desperate to escape that he hadn’t thought of any of the consequences. Mother would come, she would  _ know _ and the punishment would be worse. But would that punishment be worse than the creatures that were surely waiting for him to trance? It was a risk he was willing to take. A minute passed, and then two. No one crossed the courtyard. In fact, no one appeared at all. However, from one of the rooms he saw the light of a candle. Verin, gathering all of his courage, lowered himself out of the window and then sprinted across the yard as quickly as his legs would take him. He grabbed a stick, and began to rap at the window. Mid-hit, the window opened and Verin heard Essek swear as he swatted the branch away. 

"Stop!" Essek snapped and Verin dropped the stick. Essek was sticking his head out of the window now, glaring down at Verin with a heat that made Verin shrink with a leaf now stuck in his hair. "What are you  _ doing _ ?" 

"Mother locked me in my room," Verin said, gripping the edge of the window and desperately scrabbling for a foothold so he could boost himself up. "And she took all the lights away! Essek, please, the driders are going to get me!" 

"You are being ridiculous! Hey! Stop, you are going to hurt yourself!" Essek said, and to Verin's relief Essek grabbed his shirt and pulled him up through the window. Verin was sprawled on Essek's desk, looking at Essek's glower from an interesting angle. A book had fallen, and he had scattered papers all over the place. Despair came thick and shameful. Now Essek definitely wouldn’t help him, he would carve him up and serve him to their mama on a golden platter. 

"Don't make me go back, Essek, she'll lock me away again," Verin sniffed, eyes burning. Essek's face twisted for a moment, he looked out the window and closed it, moved to the door and stuck his head out and closed it in turn. He planted his hands on his hips, and then groaned after finding whatever answer he was looking for on the ceiling. 

"Oh fine, very well," Essek sighed, helping Verin off the desk and straightening out his things. "I'll put you to work then." 

Verin nodded eagerly, his heart full of a crippling relief. Being put to work was far better than dealing with the dark, cold, lonely bedroom before. Essek had never assigned Verin chores or punishment before, but whatever he wanted couldn't have been as bad as the quiet room. Essek was distant and quiet and mean on occasions that suited him, but at least he always kept his promises. 

"Hold this for me," Essek said, taking the blanket spread out over his legs and draping it over Verin's shoulders. "I'm getting too hot." 

Verin nodded and curled it around his shoulders. 

"Now I'm going to read, you stay quiet," Essek told him, standing up and pulling a book from the shelf. It was cracked along the backbone, well-used and annotated with his brother's scrawl. He settled it at the center of the desk, pushing away the massive tome he had been using after marking the page he had been on. 

"I will!"

" _ Quiet _ , Verin." 

"Oh! Right, sorry!" Verin whispered, curling the blanket more firmly around himself. He felt tiny in the huge chair, and didn't quite know what to do with his legs and arms. He settled for tucking them underneath himself and leaning against the arm. Essek began reading aloud. 

"Dunamists have long held that gravity is the force by which a planet or other celestial body draws objects towards their center. The force of gravity keeps the celestial bodies in orbit around the sun," Essek read, voice quietly. "The manipulation of this force is called Dunamancy, and this concept of drawing towards the center is the most basic principle of the practice." 

"Mm," Verin sighed, head heavy. 

"The existence of gravity was first proven by which scholar, Verin?" 

"Narcelia of Den Gallaer," Verin grumbled, remembering the list and his tutor who smelled like old parchment and smoke. He remembered because he had gotten his knuckles hit for doodling during that lesson, and his mother hadn’t been pleased. 

"Correct, and she discovered gravity by completing a sequence of tests that started…" 

Essek read, and occasionally asked Verin questions. He never once looked at Verin, and yet Verin could sense he had Essek's attention. And that was enough. After all, a drider couldn't get the jump on him if  _ someone  _ was paying attention. He tried to stay awake, to listen so that he could help Essek. He wasn't sure exactly what he had wanted help with, but he knew he could. He could be of use somehow. Essek would see that, and then Essek would see  _ him _ . He couldn’t imagine something better than that, after all, everyone knew that Essek was a genius. If Essek saw him, maybe Verin could be special one day and not just a bother. 

Just one moment, Verin thought to himself as his heavy eyes closed. I'll just rest for a moment. Essek won't be mad if it's just for a moment and it was so difficult to keep his eyes open and…

Verin drifted into a trance, and even deeper into  _ sleep _ . When he awoke he was in his own bed, and the only proof it hadn't been a dream was the unlocked door and the closed window. 

* * *

Verin was in the midst of a well needed rest when he was startled out of his trance by a Message. This was his least favorite way to wake up for multiple reasons, but it was especially unwelcome as his foggy brain began to put together the pieces of the words as they filtered in.

“Taskhand, your presence is being requested by your Denmother and the Shadowhand. You will be expected at the residence tomorrow evening.” 

“Very well, I’ll leave Bazzoxan tomorrow,” Verin said, before waiting for the spell to fizzle out. He sighed and collapsed back down in his bed, once he was safe. 

“ _ What _ ?” Samezi groaned from where she was laying on the bed next to him. Her head popped out from under the covers, and she blinked at him slowly. 

“My presence has been requested at the Thelyss Residence tomorrow evening,” Verin said, adopting an exaggerated Rosohna accent. 

“You aren’t going are you?” Samezi asked, concerned, sitting up straight. Verin wished they could just go back to sleeping, with his arms around her and soaking in her warmth and her scent and burying his face in her braids. When Verin didn’t answer she swore under her breath in orcish. “You can’t be serious Verin.” 

“I can’t refuse a summons from my Denmother,” Verin explained, pulling himself up and resting against the rickety backboard of his bed. He had gutted most of the belongings of the previous Taskhand, the velvet curtains and the feather down, when he got there and salvaged them for extra coin. One of his first orders of business was putting every spare coin back into the barracks where it belonged. He had no access to the vast fortune his family commanded, after all, he was the youngest son. 

“You mean your mother,” Samezi said, not sounding impressed. “That  _ woman _ .” 

“Yes, my mother, the Denmother,  _ Deirta  _ there is no difference,” Verin said noncommittal though just mentioning her made something curdle in his gut. “I have to go, no matter how much I wish not to. The Shadowhand will be there, which means it’s something important.” 

“Please, consider just...just refusing,” Samezi said, the worry settling like a weight between her brows. “You know how you get after seeing them.” 

“You mean, feeling like I’m making nothing of my life? Please, elaborate.” 

“Really Verin,” Samezi said quietly, touching his arm with a softness that gentled the sharp edges of his heart. “They are incapable of seeing what we all see. You are the only Taskhand we’ve liked probably in the history of the outpost. There’ll be chaos if that woman skins you and eats your organs or whatever she’s planning.” 

“You don’t think she just wants to see me perhaps? I’ve heard I’m decent company,” Verin said, fluttering his eyelashes. He leaned to give Samezi a kiss and she batted him away half-heartedly. 

“I’m being serious,” Samezi warned him, her fingers combing through Verin’s hair. 

“At ease, sergeant,” Verin said with a salute before sighing and leaning back against the pillows. “I know, you’re right. But I’m sure it’s just something about politics now that the war is over. I’ll go there, have dinner, and come back. If something else happens, I give you permission to send a search party. Make sure to avenge me, also, burn all those letters I sent you. They are in a lockbox in my desk.” 

“You are  _ horrible _ ,” Samezi said. “But fine, but only if they kill you before I do.” 

“Good, give me something to look forward to when I get home,” Verin said with a smile of his own. 

He arrived the next evening back to his hometown through the use of their teleportation circle. Rosohna was dark and beautiful as always, after arriving he spent a little bit of time stretching his legs and getting a feel for the city that he had grown up in once more. The mood was much improved since his last visit, owed in part to the return of the beacons and to the end of the war. In general though, it felt like the city was teetering on another edge. Though it had little to do with him, he was sure that the direction Rosohna would blow would be decided soon enough. 

Verin arrived in the Lucid Bastion on time, moving to the Den Thelyss ancestral home. Servants acknowledged his presence and he was directed to one of the sitting rooms to await the presence of the Umavi. Verin was let in, and as he crossed the threshold he was immediately aware of another presence. Turning around, he saw Essek perched in a seat with a tome across his lap. He finished his page, not looking up, and once he did he put in a bookmark. Essek curled his fingers in the air and then slipped his book into a pocket dimension, before meeting his gaze. As always, his elder brother was dressed in a mantle and long robes that obscured his figure and he floated off the ground as he was buoyed in his own gravitational field. 

"Hello Verin," Essek said pleasantly, head nodding towards him in acknowledgement. 

"Essek," Verin said cordially in return, echoing his nod. "How have you been?" 

"Busy," Essek answered, his tone non-committal. His attention slid to Verin now for the first time, though Verin wasn't looking at his brother but was instead looking ahead. The weight of his gaze skittered up Verin's neck like a spider and made him want to swat at his own skin. Essek had always had such an effect on everyone they knew.  _ Unnerving _ , would be the term though it has its limits. Verin had known Essek all of his life...until recently there had been no life without Essek being factored in like some kind of twisted arithmetic, but Verin had no clue what was simmering under the surface of Essek's facade. 

"The Denmother's last appointment is running late, it will be a few moments longer," a servant said, bowing deep in apology. Essek waved off the servant who scurried away. Verin sighed through his nose. Of course, his mother would summon him all the way from Bazzoxan and then still find a reason to not speak with him.  _ Typical _ . 

"I hear you have been busy as well," Essek said, and Verin startled at his voice. He had assumed their non-conversation was over and that they would start pretending the other didn't exist again. Apparently Essek wanted something. 

"Bazzoxan keeps me on my toes," Verin said suspiciously, feeling his own eyes narrow. "Why?" 

"It hasn't escaped my attention that you are doing well there," Essek said, and Verin met his silver gaze. He couldn't say that Essek looked proud, or warm. But instead, the placid mask of his brother was gone and his expression was neutral. "I will admit that the assignment concerned me, but I was glad to be proven wrong." 

"You thought I couldn't handle it?" Verin asked, a twinge of indignation pricking him. 

"In over your head," Essek clarified, arms shifting beneath the mantle. "But I have heard nothing but good things about your leadership. I'm sure the Umavi is pleased."

"And what do you think?" Verin asked him. 

"A Thelyss, executing their job proficiently in high places is to be expected," Essek said, looking forward. "You  _ are  _ a Theylss, after all." 

"Until you can actually speak about that like I am a Thelyss and don't just have to prove myself one, it doesn't feel like you actually think of me as your brother," Verin pointed out. 

"You are the only one of our siblings I view as a sibling," Essek said with a blink, looking at Verin more critically. "I thought you knew that." 

"I'm pretty sure what  _ you  _ think constitutes loving sibling behavior and what  _ I  _ think constitutes loving sibling behavior are two very different things," Verin said, illustrating the point by holding up two fingers and pulling them apart. 

"I don't deny that," Essek said with a shrug. “I am sorry if I made you feel otherwise though.”

Verin was now staring at Essek unabashedly. He wasn’t even sure that he had known that apologies were even part of Essek’s vocabulary (outside of the political niceties that Essek had always been well versed in). Their childhood was scattered with examples Verin could point too-bothered Essek, annoyed Essek,  _ cold  _ Essek. Cold Essek had always been Verin’s least favorite, the one that treated Verin like his existence was a chore he just had to get through. During their sibling arguments, Essek would just simply pretend Verin didn’t exist...the record being for a week straight. Never once had Essek ever apologized for instigating or his part in their disagreements. On occasion, Essek could be considerate, but never kind. There was always a  _ point _ . Whether it was to curry his favor or to repay a favor, it could be assumed that Essek wanted something. Essek was never  _ apologetic _ . Verin had half a mind to slap himself, just to make sure he was well. 

“Close your mouth or you’ll swallow a spider,” Essek said with a roll of his eyes, and Verin’s mouth closed with a click of his teeth. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Essek?” Verin asked suspiciously. 

“Stop acting like a child,” Essek told him with a very distinctly Essek huff that relieved Verin slightly. At least he knew that this was indeed his brother and not just a person masquerading around in his flesh suit. Verin was about to say something in that spirit when the servant walked back into the sitting room. 

“The Denmother is requesting your presence now,” the servant said with a bow of his head. Essek ghosted in behind him, and Verin followed close behind. 

Their mother was sitting at the table, flipping through some papers as she took sips from a glass of wine. As they walked in their mother’s eyes didn’t even flit up from the papers for a moment, she simply waved them in like she was summoning them forward. Verin felt like a child being called in for a scolding again as he moved forward. Essek’s face was a picture of cool indifference. Finally she stopped, clearly having decided that she had made them wait long enough. She set down the papers, and another servant scrambled to take them away. 

“Denmother,” Essek greeted, bowing his head in respect, and Verin echoed the movement immediately. 

“Essek,” Deirta said, standing up. She seemingly inspected Essek thoroughly. Though they were the same height, Essek was currently floating about an inch or two higher. It was at such moments that Verin was always surprised about how much Essek took after their mother. From the shape of their eyes, to the bridge of their noses, to the sharp lines of their delicate faces. Verin had always been closer in face and continence to their father. He wondered, often, what their mother thought of that. She seemed pleased with whatever she saw there and turned her attention to him. “Verin.” 

“Denmother,” Verin said as his mother curled her cold fingers under his chin, and turned his head this way and that. Verin let her manipulate his movements, and was relieved when she let go. 

“Would it kill you to keep your hair in order?” Deirta sighed, the breath coming exasperated. “It looks like you took a knife to the edges.” 

“I did,” Verin said flatly. Essek made a noise like he was stifling a chuckle, casting a glance towards him Verin could see there was a muscle twitching in his jaw...like he was fighting a grin. 

“ _ Scissors _ , Verin, are there no scissors in Bazzoxan?” Deirta chastised before casting a scolding glance at Essek. “You don’t have a leg to stand on, considering your  _ ridiculous  _ haircut.” 

“Forgive me, mother,” Essek said with a sweet, almost indulgent smile. “But the teachings of the Luxon do say that our bodies are merely transient vessels. Hair is of middling importance in the grand scheme of enlightenment.” 

“Oh Luxon’s light protect me,” Deirta said, throwing up her hands. “Verin, promise me you’ll schedule an appointment to get the ends of your hair sorted out before you leave Rosohna.” 

“Of course,” Verin said, hoping this would be enough to placate her. 

“And don’t you give me attitude, young man,” Deirta said, focusing her energy now on Essek with narrowed eyes. “Out of everyone in this household, I am not the one who needs a lecture on the Luxon’s philosophy.” 

Verin felt himself tense up, as a pit opened large and wide in his stomach. Oh dear Light, he had thought this argument was  _ over _ . Was Essek still pursuing his ridiculously dangerous ideas? It was a poorly kept secret that Essek had funny ideas when it came to the Luxon.  _ Treasonous  _ ideas, if Verin was being honest. Essek could never leave well enough alone, and had historically never sucked up his pride enough to let things lay where they were. There had been plenty of nights where Verin had hidden in his room with his head under a pillow and trying not to listen to their parents argue with Essek for hours, going around and around like they were lost in a maze. How many times had Verin prayed for Essek just to drop it? He couldn’t even count. 

“Yes, mother,” Essek said simply. Verin stared at him. He didn’t look particularly bothered by their mother’s annoyance. Essek had always had nerves of steel...or maybe deadened nerves would be more accurate. Verin wasn’t quite sure his brother was capable of the emotions that would be expected from a person. 

“Umavi,” a servant said quietly. “The cook would like you to know that dinner is ready whenever you would like it.” 

“Very well,” Deirta said, taking her seat back at the head of the table. Essek and Verin both sat at the table, Essek on the left side and Verin on the right. Verin focused solely on keeping his head down and shoveling food into his mouth. He knew rationally that this was all better than anything he would get from the barrack kitchens, but eating dinner late at night with the head cook Old Man Vuto as company was a far superior experience. He hadn’t realized how much so until just that moment. Essek and his mother spoke about the comings and goings of Rosohna, about people that Verin knew tangentially, and business that didn’t interest Verin at all. Essek grazed, picking at his plate but mostly just moving things around. 

“-now that the war is over, I am hoping that perhaps Den Wenirila will realize that their insistence on the Northern Assault strategy has done them no favors in court and the Denmother will stop shouting every time she comes into the war room,” Essek sighed. 

“Yes...now that the war is over in name, there are plenty of things that need to change,” Deirta said with a sip of her glass. “Now, we must think of the future.” 

“Indeed,” Essek said, and Verin placed down his chopsticks. “Is this why you have called us?” 

“Yes, to think of the future for Den Thelyss and for the Kryn Dynasty as a whole,” Deirta said as she settled down her glass. She waved for the servants who took the plates away and then left them alone. “The Empire has returned the beacon they stole from us, and the lines of our territory remain the same. But if anything this conflict has raised our stature in the world. The Dwendalian Empire cannot pretend that the Dynasty are savage drow and monsters who live in some cursed hovel. They were forced to recognize us. This will send a message to those countries outside of the borders of Wildemount that we are a sovereign state with military power that cannot be discounted when it comes to global politics. According to some we have lost the battle, but I believe that we have  _ won  _ the war. You two are not the first I have called here to discuss this with me, but as Denmother I believe it is my duty to share with all of the den my vision.”

“ _ Global _ politics?” Verin asked. 

“Who did the Tal’doreians beg for aid when the dragons nearly roasted their civilization into a well-done husk? It certainly wasn’t us. They begged the Dwendalians. And do you know why?” Deirta asked Verin. “Pretend that you paid attention during your history lessons, Verin. I paid good money for them.” 

“Ever since the drow left the Underdark there has been limited contact between the drow and the denizens of Tal’dorei,” Verin said quietly, repeating a lesson he had been taught long ago, trying not to feel as scolded as he did. “The only drow who remain have long since been twisted by Lolth and the dark entities who whisper in their hearts. Neighbors slaughter neighbors in the streets of their subterranean cities and the Denmothers and Denfathers rule with an authoritarian grip. Those who attempt to escape are often killed by once they reach the surface or are forced to live in secret enclaves as refuges without homes."

“That’s right. We used to not exist in their world outside of the horror stories they told their children to keep them from the dark at night, now we do,” Deirta told him, chin raised. “We have a golden opportunity to influence the world in a way we haven’t before.” 

“And what would Den Thelyss’ role in that influence be?” Essek asked as he threaded his fingers together. 

“The Kryn are the rulers, the Mirimm are the enforcers. Theylss has always been the  _ diplomats _ . You both know as well as I do that Den Thelyss has always filled in the gap with everything the Empress needs. We will even do what the Empress doesn’t know she needs, for her own good of course,” Deirta said. “Den Thelyss can be that for many others as well, beyond the Ashkeeper Peaks. Perhaps in an official capacity.” 

“How?” Verin asked, frowning. “What does the Dynasty have that would make it worthwhile for any other country to risk the ire of the Empire?” 

“We have the greatest resource. Time itself,” Deirta said. “I see no reason why our magics cannot benefit the world. Our cousins live in squalor and terror, it is our duty to return to liberate those remaining and make the peoples of Tal'dorei see drow in a new light." 

“You want to convert the other nations,” Essek said, his voice flat. Verin was staring at Deirta unabashedly. 

“Of course they should all see the light of the Luxon,” Deirta explained. “It is doubtful they will reach true enlightenment, but why shouldn’t we aim to bring more souls under the protection of our lord? But just the promise of immortality is the most powerful promise there is, and Den Thelyss can be the ambassadors for such a promise. Diplomacy is what we need in a post-war world in order to become a world power, not warmongering. If the Empress cannot see that, then we can make Quana see it. She has been the more  _ reasonable  _ one as of late.” 

“What are you implying?” Essek asked, for the first time there was an edge in his voice, an eyebrow raised. 

“You have only ever been in the war room, Essek. Not in war. Verin has more experience than you in that regard, but still you are both young and inexperienced and still haven’t died a death for your country,” Deirta sighed. “War is a horrible thing. Bloodshed is a horrible thing, and it tends to be unnecessary and gruesome. It tends to bring up all sorts of feelings and instincts.” 

“Are you implying that the Empress isn’t well?” Essek pressed. 

“If Leylas Kryn doesn’t see things our way, it is our duty to persuade her of the  _ correct  _ course of action no matter the cost,” Deirta said with a smile. “Our country’s motto is  _ for our den, our country, our Empress, and our Light. _ There is a reason that den is first.”

What does the Luxon see in you? Verin wanted to demand. Deirta wasn’t righteous, she wasn’t good, she was a  _ monster _ trying to use the Luxon’s light for her own gain. Of course it should be a good thing for the den to work for peace and prosperity for all drow, but somehow she had even managed to taint that goal with her poison. He didn’t understand it. He  _ couldn’t  _ understand it. No matter what he did, how good he could be, somehow they were all just cogs in the machinations of her mind. She just had to have some kind of wisdom that Verin didn’t, some way of understanding that made it all make sense. And yet, Verin still felt sick to his stomach. What they were speaking on was nearly treason. 

“I will do my duty to my countrymen,” Verin said as he stood up, gathering all of his courage in his spine. “I am the  _ Taskhand  _ of Bazzoxan. I am a son of Thelyss and of you but I consider my obligation to the residents of that city to be my concern first and foremost. Denmother, I will respect your decisions, but I ask that you allow me to continue to prove myself in my own way by following my own path.” 

“I see,” Deirta said with a disappointed sigh. “I’m sure I could work out a more profitable assignment here in Rosohna or even in Tal’dorei if the opportunity presents itself.” 

“I shall endeavor to work to prove myself by my own merit, though the offer humbles me,” Verin said, bowing deeply. 

“And you, Essek, what do you think?” Deirta asked, her gaze sliding over to Essek. 

“Frankly, I don’t particularly care about politics,” Essek said bluntly. “Nor do I care about the conditions of the drow of Tal’dorei. Generations ago they made their bed, and should choose to lie in it. Of course you are right that honor to our den is first and foremost our concern, and should you choose to make moves towards Tal’dorei and beyond I will support you. But I also will advise that this gamble is high risk.” 

“And should it fail, you will abandon the den to it’s fate?” Deirta asked. 

“I am the Shadowhand, if it looks like your gamble shall fail I will stop it before it gets to that point,” Essek said. 

“Is that a threat, Essek?” Deirta asked him, eyes cold. 

“Yes,” Essek said with a smile. “The den is first, as you said. I would think you expect nothing less of me.” 

“Essek!” Verin hissed, utterly horrified. 

“There aren’t many who would have the audacity to scheme their way into being Denfather upon their first life, especially in a house of an Umavi,” Deirta scoffed. 

“I have no interest in being Denfather,” Essek said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But should the occasion arise I will find a suitable candidate to replace you.” 

“Only one of us here is truly replaceable, think long and hard about your recent decisions before you come to the conclusion about who that is,” Deirta warned him, eyes flashing dangerously. Essek’s shoulders squared and his jaw tensed. “Especially considering the company you have been keeping nowadays.” 

Verin wanted to laugh at that idea. Essek? Keeping company? It was ridiculous. But based off of Essek’s frigid demeanor it apparently wasn’t a joke considering that if he had looked frigid before he was now clocking in at below freezing. 

“I think this conversation is over,” Essek said as he stood up abruptly, there was something dangerous in his gaze. It was something sharp enough that it could make a person bleed. 

“Clearly,” Deirta said shortly. 

“Verin,” Essek addressed him clearly for the second time that night. “Would you like to stay here, or would you rather stay in my home? I have a guest room prepared.” 

_ Who are you?  _ Verin wanted to ask. 

“I’ll take you up on that then,” was what Verin said instead. 

* * *

Verin had never been to Essek’s home. He had received it after Verin’s assignment in Bazzoxan, and there was certainly no reason to come visit his brother. But Essek’s tower reminded Verin much of a graveyard, cold and impersonal. He could imagine clearly his brother haunting the hallways in the middle of the night, a phantom to his own dreams, walking about in patterns as he tried to work through some esoteric problem that didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. There were strange things though; there were books slightly out of place, extra papers, knickknacks, and things that told a story that Verin couldn’t quite piece together. The company Essek had been keeping? Their mother’s jab still echoed freshly in his ears. Had Essek been seeing someone their mother hadn’t approved of? Verin just couldn’t see that being the case. As far as Verin knew, Essek had never had any romantic entanglements nor shown an interest in such things. 

“You look like you’ve been stewing on something for a while now,” Essek said as he sat down, discarding his mantle thoughtlessly. He was smaller than Verin remembered, thinner too. He looked worn down by whatever was eating at him, until he was nothing but edges and spite. “Go ahead, before your brain explodes.” 

“What was mother talking about?” Verin asked directly, seeing no purpose in dancing around the point. “What company?” 

“It won’t come as a shock to you,” Essek said with a sigh as he put out glasses and set out the wine. “But I lost the friends I made.” 

“Friends?” Verin asked, seizing on that impossible fact. 

“I should be insulted by your surprise at that part of my statement, but I know, I was surprised too,” Essek said quietly, looking off to the side as he poured a more than generous quantity of wine for himself. “But it doesn’t matter any more.”

“What did you do to lose them?” Verin asked as he sat down. Essek took a breath, and then another. He was clearly gathering his thoughts as he did so, finally he gave up whatever mental game he was playing. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me, Verin,” Essek admitted, meeting Verin’s gaze openly. “I used to think...I didn’t understand you at all growing up. I thought I was better, but...I think there’s something  _ wrong  _ with me.” 

“Essek…” Verin said, feeling something in his gut shift at Essek’s expression that twisted like he was in pain. 

“I made a mistake, I did something...well, I did something for my own gain and I don’t even feel bad about it though I should. I only felt bad that the people close to me...that it hurt them,” Essek said scrubbing at his face. “I can’t  _ understand  _ it. I am trying so hard, I put the pieces together rationally, but I just can't make myself feel as I should." 

"How do you think you should feel?" Verin asked. 

"Guilty? Awful?  _ Sad _ ?" Essek offered. "I just feel nothing, and then get frustrated that I feel nothing!" 

"I can't help but admit that I'm at a loss for why you want my advice," Verin said quietly. 

"Verin…" Essek sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Stop acting slow. I don't  _ have _ anyone else to ask for advice." 

"You do realize how depressing that is, right?" Verin asked him. "Me? You want to ask  _ me _ ? You don't even like me!" 

"By the Light! You are so  _ dense _ !" Essek snapped and discarded common and began hissing at him in their first language. "Fine, here's me being honest. Yes, Verin, you are my annoying little brother. I find your savior complex insulting to my intelligence, I never found your jokes about my height funny, and you snore so loud I considered smothering you with a pillow because Mother and Father forced us to sleep into the same room-!" 

"When our cousin's room was being remodeled? If you are being serious about the constant threat to my life as a child I will actually kill you, what in the nine hells Essek-!" 

"So yes, Verin. I don't  _ like _ you. But you are my brother. You know me better than anyone else in the world, we have a shared history. And I also know you don't like me, so I can trust you to be honest. So please, Verin,  _ help me _ ," Essek said, his voice desperate, and his chest heaving with his desperation. "You are normal and I'm not and I need to know what I'm doing wrong." 

"I don't think you are doing anything wrong...actively," Verin tried to explain, holding out his arms in an attempt to placate him. "You have just...you know, always been like this?"

"Like what?" 

".. evil?" 

"Well great," Essek said sarcastically, throwing his hands up. "Thank you, that makes me feel so much better." 

"What do you want me to say?" Verin asked defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "You didn't even cry at our father's funeral!" 

"There wasn't a body!"

"Why does that matter?" Verin demanded, slamming his hand on the table. "You wouldn't have cried anyways! That’s the problem!" 

"I can't fake it," Essek said, sounding honestly distressed. "How would faking it make anything better? If I don't feel it I don't feel it! I can't make myself be different, gods know I want to be." 

"What do you want to be, Essek, honestly?" Verin asked his brother. 

"I want to be the kind of person who the people I care about don't hate," Essek said quietly. "I'm just not sure it's possible." 

"Essek, be serious, do you think the people who you became friends with would like you if you weren't acting like yourself?" Verin asked him, eyebrows shooting up. 

"I don't know, it seems like it." 

“Essek, really?” 

Essek grimaced and downed his entire glass in one fell swoop. For a moment he seemed to truly consider the question, before just shaking his head and giving Verin a rueful smile. It was, perhaps, the most genuine expression that Verin had seen from his brother in years. For a moment he had to remember to breathe, because there he was. This was the Essek that Verin remembered between the pages of old textbooks and ducking between the pillars of their home. That Essek hadn’t been perfect, nor kind, but at least Essek was his brother. That had meant something in Verin’s life, a life that was full of starts and stops and highs and crushing lows all dictated by a woman who Verin was sure had never even seen them as people with lives outside of her. Verin wondered if it made her proud, how thoroughly she had destroyed them. 

"I wonder if I loved them, or the Essek I thought I could be with them," Essek said mournfully, looking at his hands arranged in his lap. "I wonder if I'm grieving them or that Essek. Grief...it’s new to me, as many things are these days." 

“If they only liked who you were pretending to be, they never liked you at all,” Verin told him, settling his hand on Essek’s shoulder after a long pause. Essek tensed, but didn’t fight the touch. Verin was sure that he felt as Verin did, like he was crawling out of his own damn skin. But Verin pushed through it, because he could at least give this to Essek. 

“That Essek would have probably been a better brother, the brother you deserved,” Essek said with a heavy sigh, pointedly not answering the other question. Verin was positive that Essek didn’t want to verbalize the answer. 

“You aren’t technically the only brother I have...but you are my only  _ brother _ ,” Verin said with a shrug as he removed his hand. “It’s not a question about what I deserve. Frankly, I could have been a better brother to you many times. I let you face the brunt of everything alone, and I’m sorry for that.” 

“There were many times I loathed you for that,” Essek said, eyes closed and leaning back against the sofa. “But I also knew that I could handle it...handle her. You were a child...so, it wasn’t your fault. Out of the two of us, I knew I would survive.” 

“You were a child too,” Verin said and Essek’s eyelid cracked open. 

“I wasn’t a child as you were,” Essek said gently. “I wasn’t like you.” 

“You are different from me, that doesn’t mean you weren’t a child,” Verin argued. 

“Did I ever tell you that I was there when you were born?” Essek asked, startling Verin with the sudden change of topic. A smile pulled at his teeth. “I haven’t, have I? I remember it because Mother had just pulled me out of the school for my special tutoring. I was so special, I was twelve, and when I arrived home Mother was pregnant with  _ you _ . She hadn’t even told me, I just showed up and she was ready to pop.” 

“She didn’t tell you?” Verin asked, befuddled. 

“Of course not,” Essek said with a wave. “She never wrote to me when I was away, and I never came back. All of twenty-four hours after coming home there she was screaming bloody murder in labor, and then she was screaming at me because I wasn’t paying attention to my studies. When I informed her that was going to be impossible with her screeching like a dying roc she threatened to pop my eyeballs out with her nails.” 

Verin couldn’t help the laughter that escaped his throat, Essek just rolled his eyes. 

“Anyways, to make a long story short, I was bitchy because I finally thought that Mother was paying attention to me and then Mother had to go and push you out not even one day later. Father handed you to me, and said, this is Verin. And I remember thinking you were the  _ ugliest  _ thing I ever saw-”

“Hey!” 

“But you were there. And that was enough,” Essek said simply, coming to a neat and concise conclusion. “You have always been enough, Verin. I know that one day...well...this truce of ours may not last, but I wanted you to know that. I never wished that you were anyone else...even if you made me want to kill you and often I didn’t like you. But you were the only one I ever felt close to. You are my brother and maybe the only person in this world that I can consider my friend and though I’m not sure the feeling was mutual...I...” 

“Thank you, Essek,” Verin said, his throat feeling oddly sore. “I felt the same.” 

For a moment Verin could feel the weight of a hundred years between them. A hundred and ten years should have meant nothing to them, they were children of a soul unbound by time itself. And yet, all of those memories were tangible and meaningful. He and Essek had never known anything else and Verin wondered if that made them who they were. For the first time in Verin’s life, he believed that maybe Essek saw them that way too. Perhaps that was one thing they could agree upon, in a life that was so tangled up in complexity. 

“Well, it’s getting late. I’ll teleport you to Bazzoxan tomorrow,” Essek said, getting up slowly, clearly not addressing Verin’s emotions or his sentiment. “The guest bedroom is the first room on the right at the top of the stairs.” 

“Wait...Essek,” Verin said and Essek paused, turned, and looked at him. “I’m sorry about your friends. I hope that things work out.”

“Good night, Verin,” Essek said, before floating away. 

Verin wondered if he was trying to escape him, or if Essek couldn’t dare to dream. 


End file.
